Unexpected Prospect
by CognacGirl-CG
Summary: **#1 in Series** Unusually nervous to start a week long op with Sark, Sydney discovers why her nerves act the way they do. **Sequel to this is called No One Knows.**
1. Annoyances Through Accomplishment

Title: Unexpected Prospect

Author: CG 

Feedback: Please. 

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions. Nor do I own any lyrics or name brand used. 

Summary: Unusually nervous to start a week, long op with Sark, Sydney discovers why her nerves act the way they do. 

Rating: Will end up being R 

Classification: Angst/Romance

Distribution: Sarkgasm, Dark Enigma, and Cover Me yes, all others please ask.

Chapter 1 -

Sitting behind his desk pondering her objection, Sloane took just a moment before he replied, "You're telling me that this is going to be a problem?" 

Sydney stared at her boss in disbelief at what he was asking her to do. Throughout her many years of employment at SD-6, she had many a task that was uncomfortable and at best only questioned her values. She'd been shot at, had her face licked and tortured yes, but for some reason what Sloane was asking her to do went beyond that. Nothing came close to how awkward she felt with this newest op.

With her arms crossed in defense, she questioned, "Do you realize what you're asking me to do?" Her voice was almost at a whisper, to keep any unwanted outside attention to her concern. "There has to be another way."

Sloane eyed her curiously. He knew she had faced worse than this. He had seen the bruises, heard of the circumstances. Why this, why now? "To a person of your professional status and experience, I don't see the area of concern," he answered. "We need two people for this since the window of opportunity is so small and Dixon is currently working elsewhere. This is just another job there are no expectations to this façade besides getting what we want." 

Feeling the pang of defeat knowing her objections were beginning to sound more trivial, Sydney bit her lip and accepted it. Not sure why she felt so uncomfortable about the trip, she picked up her brief bag and walked to leave his office. As she exited, she commented to herself, "Make sure you remind Sark of that too." 

Walking toward the secured elevator, her thoughts were consumed with questions of the origin of her unsettled feelings. Was it that Sark was a proven enemy of SD-6 and CIA? Or could it be the fact that every time she looked up from her work, a meeting or anything else in office, he seemed to be fixated on her in some way. Maybe it was on occasion, she hesitantly admitted, when it was the other way around. Sark would catch her as she'd been purposely stealing a look. Distracted, she took the corner near the exit a little too fast and without paying any attention. 

"Whoa," Sark said, as he placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping the collision between the two of them. "Better watch where you're going, Sydney." 

The warmness of his hand penetrated through her suit jacket and shirt. She shrugged it off, but not before a noticeable amount of pause. "You should do the same," she warned, as she felt a flush rise to her face. 

Just before she stepped to leave, Sark interjected, "So, do you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning then." 

Sydney immediately snapped back, "You'll not come anywhere near my house."

Sark's eyes widen and Sydney noticed his lower lip doing that pouty thing it did the few times she had seen him amused. How she hated the fact she noticed it, and grew even more furious at the sight of his signature cocky smile.

"Ms. Bristow, I do hope you're going to be a bit more pleasant when we're husband and wife," he taunted, hoping to provoke her. 

Narrowing her eyes in detest, Sydney gave no answer, just brushed by him, accidentally grazing his arm with hers. "Bastard," she muttered, and then proceeded to the exit. 

Of all people, she questioned later that night while packing one of her suitcases, why him? Of all the things she could have been asked to do, why this?

 She rummaged through her nightclothes, trying to find the most suitable. Not an easy task when you had to choose between pairs of cotton pajama's with animals or skimpy solid colored cotton briefs with matching spaghetti strap tanks. 

Years she had worked with Dixon, and maybe only a handful of times had she been disguised as a girlfriend. Now she was ordered to be the newlywed wife of SD-6's newly acquired possession, for a whole week no less. Stopping for just a moment, she recognized the odd feeling of nervousness as it took her. 

_Newlywed wife,_ she repeated, hoping to get used to it. What was worse was everything that went along with that title. Shared quarters, a week of acting as if she adored her partner, public displays of affection…

"Dear lord," she said aloud. 

Lost in worry, she didn't hear Francie enter the room, "Two suitcases?" She complained to Sydney. "How long are they making you stay away this time?" 

Sydney faced her and smiled, "If I'm lucky, only a week." She watched as Francie looked at her with disbelief. But before she could make any of the usual comments about continual travel, Sydney interrupted, "Please don't start, believe me I know too well I just got back from New York two days ago." 

"You must be damn good at what you do Syd," Francie said, her voice laced with concern. "And you must enjoy it to take the crap they dish you." 

Sydney laughed and disclosed, "Today's not the day to ask about the latter." 

With sympathy in her voice, Francie ended the conversation. "Well Christmas is in less than two weeks, I hope they don't make you stay away for the holiday." Before Sydney could respond, Francie had exited. 


	2. Uncomfortable Silences

Chapter 2 - 

Finding peace in an airport was no easy task, especially if you were waiting in one, right before lunch rush. Old habits didn't die and "people watching" was one of hers. All the businessmen walking about in their expensive suits, following their own routine of winding through the line to get to the ticket counter. Cell phones in hand, on occasion they would speak a little too loudly, as if the large numbers they threw out over the line were a form of phallic symbol. 

One glance at her reflection in the window brought Sydney back to reality. Most times she hardly recognized herself when in disguise, and this morning was no different. The shoulder length brown wig with gold flecks, styled in a perfect wave had become one of her favorites. Along with a new cream-colored deep v-neck tank that matched perfectly with her tan dress pant and Gucci print boots. Her ensemble, which included a matching tan pea coat, cost more than one-weeks pay, she assumed. Not really her style either, but then she was no longer herself. 

Being someone else always rejuvenated her. Some would say it was due to an underlying awkwardness in her skin. Of course she'd debate that, everyone needed an escape from true life, whether it be some sort of healthy addiction or in her case, work and a temporary change of being. 

Waiting for her companion, she reached into her Jackie O style Gucci bag to retrieve her traveling papers, just to familiarize herself further. 

"Claudette," Sydney heard from behind, "you ready?" 

His voice was a bit hoarse, yet she felt her heart rate quicken at the sound. Only when she stood did she allow herself to meet his eye – casual yes, with his pressed denim jeans, combined with a thin taupe crewneck sweater, but very appropriate considering the circumstance. 

Now Sydney felt the reality of this, she would be alone with this man, relying solely on his talent and vice versa for the duration. All this surfaced with one look in his eyes, eyes that shifted away when her gaze lingered too long. Before she took her carryon, he tossed it over his shoulder. The sort of gesture a husband would normally make for his wife. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Binoche," the hotel desk clerk announced, as he read their reservation. "Welcome to the Park Tower Buenos Aires. We hope you enjoy your honeymoon in Argentina." 

The clerk slipped Sark an access card, and he replied, "We plan to do just that, thank you." 

Sydney smiled at the clerk before following Sark to the elevator. She watched as her faux husband took long confident strides through the sumptuous lobby. Her thoughts momentarily wandered to what he was thinking. 

Less than twenty words were said between them in the last thirty hours of reaching their destination. Nothing much too say, just the minimal, 'Do you need help with that' or the occasional question of her comfort. He would have to bring much more to the table if he wanted to make this believable, stating this raised her concern. We only have five days to befriend the targets and it would not be easy with a cold fish. 

Upon entering the suite, Sydney was taken aback at its scheme. Reds, gold and uniquely shaped wooden furniture, complimented the detailed ceiling trim. Running her hand along the red, crushed velvet sofa and feeling the friction generate on her hand, she was more than satisfied with their accommodations. Walking a bit farther, she came across what she correctly assumed to be the bedroom door. 

Plush and immaculate, she remarked while walking around the capacious room and neared the king size bed, encased in dark wood. The red velvet blanket, accented with large gold throw pillows appeared welcoming, after such a long trip. 

Too engrossed to notice, she was startled at the sound of Sark's voice, coming from just inside the bedroom door. "Would you like something to eat?" 

While hanging up her jacket, she responded, "Sure, there should be a room service menu by the phone."

"Actually, the surveillance we're linked to shows that Marcus and Consuela Espinoza were just seated downstairs. I rang to reserve the table next to theirs," he informed her, while casually leaning against the frame of the door. 

Sydney unzipped the front pocket of her bag and pulled out her makeup case. "Fine just give me about five minutes."

Makeup perfected, Sydney met Sark, who was waiting just outside the suite. Must of made a quick change, she noted, he was now dressed in a tan single breasted suit, with crisp white dress shirt and complimenting tie.

"Everything is set downstairs," he started. "You're going to be up to this?" 

Sydney glanced at him as they rode down the elevator. "I've got my game face on, I'm more concerned about you." She watched as he smiled, seemingly amused. 

Silent for the last few seconds of the elevator ride, he responded once they had reached the lobby, "I've been ready for this since Los Angeles."

As the elevator door opened, Sydney looked at Sark, almost feeling his last statement was more complex than it seemed. Momentarily she hesitated, but then stepped behind him, following his lead into the hotel restaurant. 

"Binoche," Sark informed the maitre de of their reservation.

Sydney scanned inside to see if she could spot the newlywed couple they were here to contact. "Right this way sir," the maitre de answered. 

She felt Sark's hand as it slid around her waist, and then came to rest on her hip. Sydney allowed him to guide her to their table. "Come on dear," he softly spoke in her ear, sending a chill down her back. 


	3. Sydney's Mood

Chapter 3 - 

Marcus Espinoza founder and head of Espinoz Technologies had been in tech since age twenty. Before his independence, his business ranged from a lowly processor to V.P of Operations of a major electronics company. Most recently, unbeknownst to him, Marcus gave satellite access to K-Directorate businessmen. The reason SD-6 had sent them here. Now at forty-two, Marcus wed Consuela Frias, faithful companion of over ten years, also ten years his junior. 

Sydney walked by the table, catching a glimpse of the couple. Consuela's raven hair was swept up in a loose wrap, showing off what looked like two-karat diamond earrings. A handsome man in his own right, Marcus Espinoza sat across from his bride, and even by candlelight one could see him watching her with a spark of love in his eyes. 

Properly, Sark stood behind the chair, waiting for Sydney to sit as the maitre de looked on. "Your waiter will be here in just a moment," he dismissed himself. Sitting across from Sark in silence, Sydney reached for the menu to have something to take her attention away from the quiet. 

"I love you so much, my dear. I can't go a day without you."

Sydney did her best to eavesdrop on their neighbor's conversation. At last glance, Marcus was holding his wife's hand, stroking it gently. Having gone through two bottles of wine, both should be fully intoxicated by now, she guessed. 

Both Sydney and Sark had finished their dinner over five minutes ago. Hoping to drown some of her nervousness, she finished at least half of their bottle of wine. Sadly, all she succeeded in doing was getting lost in more thought. This man, her husband, sitting across from her, was ever so quiet. His comfort level must be near hers, for she had no idea where to begin this. 

Surprised at his movement, Sydney watched Sark stand to leave, pausing first by her chair. As she looked up at him, he lowered his head to gently place a kiss in her hair. "I'll be right back," he whispered in her ear.  

Curiously she watched as he walked toward the lobby of the hotel, disappearing from her sight. Placing partial concentration back on the Espinoza's, Sydney sighed, a bit frustrated by the night's slowness. One of them needed to ease this tension before they blew the op.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sydney spied the couple sharing a moment of intimacy, their lips engaged so sweetly. How wonderful it must be, to be in that sort of love, where you were unable to live without the other. Danny loved her when he was alive, as she did him, but just listening to Marcus' words of genuine adoration for his wife had Sydney now believing that something was missing. That ache, deep in your gut when your partner was away only dissolving once you were in their arms again. Sometimes she was saddened by the thought of that type of love, or even that one person didn't exist for her, again that was in the rare moment when she could reflect on it. 

Just as she finished her glass of wine, Sark returned to the table. From the look in his eye, Sydney could tell that he had seen the kiss the Espinoza's were still working on. In their first moment of ease, they smiled at each other, mildly embarrassed with the display. As if on cue, Sydney heard a small commotion from behind, and she turned to find the house band approaching their instruments.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the emcee began. "Although we told you our set was complete over an hour ago, we've been inspired to return for an encore." The entire restaurant fixated on the dance floor in front of the band, as he began to read from a slip of paper. "The love for a woman is difficult to put into words, so much so confessions of such are rarely ever made by a man. Only when you find that one person, the one that brings you into the life you never dreamed existed, can a man begin to express what's truly in his soul. In mine, what I can tell you is you are the most beautiful person in my life." The emcee placed the paper in his pocket, "Claudette Binoche, your husband wanted to express his love for you with those words and this song." 

Sydney watched as Sark stood, just as the band started to play 'Only Time Will Tell' by Etta James. The familiar tune Francie made her listen to when she went through one of her many music phases. Right before her, he extended his hand, inviting her to the dance floor. As she met his eye, she noticed a smile so much more the opposite of any she had seen in their previous encounters. Wiped clean of any cockiness, arrogance or spite, what was left was perfect, boyish charm. Of course she accepted his invite by placing her hand in his, and allowing him to lead her to the floor. 

_I just needed someone, somebody to hold  
When the bottle was empty  
And the nights grew cold  
In my hour of darkness  
In my time of need  
You were my angel of mercy  
And helped me to believe_  
  


No notice was given to the thirty or so pairs of eyes that had followed them as they approached the dance floor. Nor was any notice given to the few gentlemen who unconsciously wrapped their arms around their companions, touched by Mr. Binoche's words. All she could watch was the man in front of her, as he led her to a dance.

_You touched my soul  
When I was lonely  
You held me up  
When I couldn't fly  
There's no words could explain  
How I feel inside_  
  


Finally after what seemed more like a few minutes, they reached the floor. Sark faced Sydney and slid his hand around her waist, slowly pulling her to him. In return, Sydney placed one hand on his shoulder while laying the other in his free hand. 

_And this I tell you  
In a world full of anger  
In times gone strange  
You held me close  
You held me close to you_

Moving as one, they slowly swayed to the music. Finding it easier to play her part now, Sydney looked at Sark, hoping it appeared to be with the kind of love a wife would show her husband. She took it a step further by slipping her hand up the back of his neck, messing with his small curls. Acting like he enjoyed the sensation, Sark closed his eyes with her touch.   
  


Lay my head on your shoulder  
I finally let it all out  
It felt good for a moment  
Not living in a shadow of doubt

Sark brought their intertwined hands near his heart, drawing Sydney to lay her head on his shoulder. In a voice rich with sultriness, he whispered near her ear, "They haven't taken their eyes off us yet."

_But everybody needs a little something  
To pull them through  
I gave one for the other  
And God know that the other was you_  
  


Sydney closed her eye, beginning to get lost in the moment. Even though it was all staged, his words were some of the most romantic she had ever heard. The song was a perfect addition. 

Now only time will tell  
If our love is scratched in sand  
Or if it's etched in stone  
Only time will tell  
If our love will stand  
Or walk the road alone

When Sydney reopened her eyes, she was pleased to find The Espinoza's had joined them, dancing within a few feet. Surprisingly, Sydney made eye contact with Consuela, who smiled cordially. Sydney did the same, making the initial contact.   
  


My angel of mercy  
Pulled me through somehow  
I just hope you know  
I need you now  
You're the one  
That touched my very soul  
The one who held on tight  
God knows you never let go

The song nearing its end, Sydney took her head from Sark's shoulder. With a handful of couples around them, most engrossed with their partners, Sydney watched Sark as he momentarily looked to his side, finding their target couple watching the two of them. 

_Angel of mercy  
It's time we closed the door  
Put out the lights  
And burn the fire  
Burn the fire inside  
Angel of mercy  
You pulled me through  
And this I tell to you  
Lord know I'd tell it to you _

Playing to the crowd, Sark met Sydney's eye. Gently he moved a stray hair from her face. His eyes sparkling with the brightest blue, he spoke just loud enough, "You're everything." Sydney reacted by returning a loving look. Catching her off guard, Sark lowered his mouth to Sydney's, overpowering her lips. 

No choice in the matter, Sydney responded by first cupping the side of his face, then partially opening her mouth and allowing his tongue room to explore. The taste of wine on his breath was sweet, and just like hers his breathing became irregular as the kiss grew with intensity. 

_What is he doing,_ she screamed internally, feeling his tongue as it massaged the inside of her mouth. Almost terrified by the rush he was sending all through her body, awakening feelings she thought were permanently dormant, she realized her inability to stop their exchange without looking suspicious. 

Thankfully a few moments after the song ended, Sark stopped the kiss by softly grazing her cheek with the back of his hand. Before they part, Sark stayed less than an inch from her face, she assumed to catch his breath. Sydney watched, as his eyes appeared to transform into a darker blue as he spoke, "I love you."

Frozen by what she read as truth, Sydney took a moment before placing her hand in Sark's so he could guide her back to the table. Making her way back, she listened as the band began to play 'Parker's Mood', and was perplexed by the question that had surfaced. 

Did Sark realize that Marcus and Consuela were no longer near when he spoke? She had no idea that they had left, for some reason that was the furthest thing from her mind. Something had awakened in her, and she felt it winding through her body, enhancing everything around her. Calming herself, she reasoned that Sark must not have noticed that the couple had left either. 


	4. Darkness Just Before Dawn

Chapter 4 - 

No redness, no sign of swelling, just this burning fire causing an odd pulsation. Checking for any sign of irritation Sydney ran her fingers lightly over her lips, watching the motion in their bathroom mirror. One kiss, the culprit behind her now twenty-minute stay behind the closed door. 

Truly she was a bit embarrassed, her actions after dancing with Sark were quite revealing. Three times he asked her if she was okay on the way back to their quarters, the same amount of times she answered yes of course, but still couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. And now with her thoughts consumed by him, it was maddening. Why did she give a shit what he thought, she was sent here to complete an assignment, no more, no less - but there was more, deep down there was so much more brewing than she was ready to acknowledge. 

After placing her moisturizer back in her bag, she conjured up the courage to face him. With her knee length black bathrobe covering up the same colored brief and tank set, Sydney emerged to find the bedroom empty. Relieved but curious, she twisted her hair up in a quick bun and walked toward the dimly lit front room. At first sight, she found herself embarrassed, almost enough to turn around.

"I apologize, I thought you had retired," he spoke, with no fluctuation in his voice. "I just finished checking the room access system and The Espinoza's were in thirty minutes ago," he added. 

Too late to turn back now, she stayed. Even in the low light, she saw the definition of muscle in his bare back, slightly twitching with each stroke of his laptop keyboard. Slowly she approached at an angle that allowed her to view his profile. 

"Sounds like everything is working fine," Sydney finally spoke her first words. 

Sark grunted in agreement, his fingers still speeding around the keyboard. After a few moments he questioned, "Did you need to talk about it?"

"Talk about what," she asked, even though she had an idea of what he was referencing. 

He stopped typing, but kept his eyes on the screen, "What happened downstairs. You've been acting strange since dinner. Is it bothering you that much?"

Growing uncomfortable with the direction this was going in, Sydney answered with a simple, "No," hoping it ended the conversation. 

Sydney watched as he looked at her with just a hint of anger flashing in his eyes, "The idea of kissing me I assume is horrific, you have no choice but to get used to it. There's no way we'll become friendly with them if we don't act like we have the same sort of relations." 

"I said, it's not a problem for me," Sydney displayed her frustration. "I'm fine with it. Just… maybe you could give me some sort of warning next time."

Sark showed his amusement by letting go a small chuckle. "Would you prefer a secret password or use of sign language Sydney." Before she could reply, Sark continued, "You don't need to say it, I know a good 'fuck off' or 'fuck you' is in order." 

He shut his laptop then stood, causing Sydney to instinctively take a step back as he moved past her. She could see now that he was dressed in only his trousers, which were slightly sagging due to his unfastened belt. When she heard the bathroom door close, she exhaled, releasing her frustration. 

He was not Mr. Binoche, his display was a reminder of that fact. Someone like Sark probably couldn't fathom feelings of such deep love and devotion for a woman. Exhausted from the long day, Sydney curled up on the couch, closing her eyes until Sark finished in the bedroom. 

Surrounded by blackness, the drawn curtains did their best at preventing even the light of moon from entering. Sydney felt the soft velvet blanket against her back. Earlier when she first entered the room, she knew it would feel heavenly and it did. The entire bed was of utmost comfort. 

Fully aware of his presence, she smiled at the feel of his hand sliding up her leg, teasing as he halted just inside her upper thigh. She could faintly smell the musk of his cologne, after such a long day it was surprising to see that it had lasted so long. He momentarily fumbled with the tie on her robe, but slid his hand under her tank, and over her exposed stomach once it was freed. 

"You are so lovely," he spoke, his voice a bit throaty. "I could stay here forever."

Closer his face came, and she could feel the tickle of his breath against her neck and waited for his lips. Instead she felt his hand slide up to her covered breast, softly cupping it, "You've captured my soul," he breathed as he gently massaged her. She felt his other hand move to her stomach, jabbing the hard metal of his gun near her rib cage, before cocking it, "And I can't let you keep it." 

Sydney gasped, immediately sitting upright. "Fuck," was all that escaped, as she looked around the lavish bedroom she now remembered checking into. Her hand immediately dropped to her stomach, finding her robe was indeed untied. Probably from restless sleep, she reasoned. Giving herself a chance to calm down, she walked to the window and pulled back the curtain, exposing the morning light. 

"Good morning, Sydney," giving her a good startle, Sark walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of tan khaki pants with a water blue button down shirt. After she was already facing him, she remembered the untied robe and fumbled to recover her body. She noticed the corner of his mouth turned up a bit, humored by her behavior. "Marcus made a call to a local jeweler this morning and plans to stop by with Consuela around noon."  He walked to the door, "I figure it would be best to be there before." 

"Of course," Sydney replied, showing her confusion on how she ended up in the bedroom, and not on the couch like she remembered. She glanced at the bed, and noticed only her side had been touched, so she did sleep alone. 

"You fell asleep, I carried you in here," Sark answered her unasked question, walking to the door. "And yes I slept on the couch," Sark left her and her anger grew at his gift of reading her so well. 


	5. Barrio Norte

Chapter 5 - 

Working for SD-6 had taken her to many a country, some different as night and day with their expensive details or dinginess of slums. Even after racking up hoards of frequent flyer miles she couldn't use, it was rare to have time for site seeing. 

As she was walking through the French style buildings of the Recoleta neighborhood, she soaked up the culture of one of the most traditional areas in Buenos Aires. Passing by rows of boutiques and the occasional pub, she periodically paused out front of the smaller shops, browsing for trinkets. Out of habit, she checked her reflection in the window. 

One of the most difficult tasks she had faced thus far, had to be Claudette's style. Designer urban chic wasn't really her, but Sydney pulled it off fine. The expensive scarf, with multi shades of blue, geometric shapes, wrapped around her head, matched her tight blue halter-top wonderfully. Both perfectly complimented her white, wide legged pants and nude stiletto boots. What she could get used to was the jewelry. Sure it was a bit gaudy, but the seventeen-karat sapphire and diamond bracelet was amazing to look at. 

Her thoughts on fashion were interrupted by the sense of someone staring. Thirty feet to her left, Sark was leaning against the shop building up the block, casually watching her. Her thoughts ran back to earlier that day, as they were eating breakfast, and the way his eyes were almost glowing with many shades of blue. It was not common to find someone with chameleon eyes, changing with mood or dress. When she looked in his direction, he placed a soft smile on his face lifting his head slightly, a motion of calling her over. She obliged, making her way over, and slid her arm in his. 

Sark leaned in, "No sign of them yet, but we better go." Sydney smiled while running her nails over his biceps, feeling a slight twitch under her fingers. 

"Consuela," the old man behind the counter gave his greeting as she walked to the front door. "You look absolutely radiant!" Sydney looked toward the front just as she stepped in. The old man was right, her black, naturally waved hair, brushed just past her shoulders. Dressed to fit the mid eighty-degree weather, her body was hugged by a knee length, soft pink strapless dress. "Marcus," the man extended his hand, "I was surprised to hear you would be by." 

Mrs. Espinoza left the two men to talk, heading straight to the necklace cases. Hoping to start a conversation, Sydney left Sark to look at the men's watches, and strolled over in her direction. While peering at the array of diamonds encased in glass, she took notice of a simple, yet brilliant necklace -three stones dangling from a white gold chain. The strategically placed lights, made the necklace sparkle with all the colors of the spectrum. 

"They are lovely aren't they," Sydney heard Consuela as she spoke to her. "You're admiring the three stone?"

In response, Sydney smiled in agreement. "It's nice, but not really my style," she lied. "My style tends to gravitate more to the extravagant side. At least that's what my husband tells me." 

Her comment drew a laugh from Consuela, "I see, your husband is like that too. At least it seems like he has this marriage thing down." Sydney shot her a questioning look, prompting Consuela to elaborate. "We're staying at the Park Tower Hotel also. His loving display last night was one of the most romantic I've heard." 

Sydney showed a small amount of embarrassment. "Love is a completely different story when you've found that one person."

"Tell me about it," Consuela answered. Extending her hand, "I'm Consuela Espinoza."

Sydney took her hand in a cordial gesture, "Claudette Binoche. So are you two on your honeymoon also?"

"No, actually we live in Buenos Aires, but we're having some work done on our house," Consuela replied. 

Unaware that Sark had been eavesdropping even before their conversation began, Sydney was surprised when he slid his hand over her hip, standing close behind. "Claudette love, did you find anything to your liking?" 

"Well, I was looking at this diamond choker," Sydney pointed to the twenty carat necklace, "but I already know you'll tell me it's a bit much, even for my formal wear." Sydney reached behind her to stroke his face with her hand. 

Sark glanced into the glass case. "As much as I love your neck bare, it's much better accented with something a bit less."

Both Sydney and Consuela laughed. "See what I mean," Sydney told Consuela. "Honey, this is Consuela Espinoza. She and her husband are staying at our hotel." 

Sark extended his hand to shake, "Nice to meet you." 

"Likewise," Consuela smiled at Sark. "Have you two done any site seeing yet?"

With her knowledge of Buenos Aires gained from the Internet, Sydney responded, "Not yet. We're hoping to make it to the Fine Arts Museum, my husband is a Goya fan, and of course the Recoleta Cemetery sometime later today."

"Both are wonderful places," she beamed, "the weekends here are rich with festivities, if you're staying over. The whole area is filled with artists, musicians and other crafts." Claudette looked toward her husband, who was ending his conversation with the jeweler. "Well, I'm off to finish official Christmas business. We'll probably see you at the hotel later."

Sydney smiled at her, "I'm sure we will." Sydney watched as she walked off in the direction of her husband. Taking Sark's hand, she led them toward the exit. 

When they made it out the door, Sark complimented her. "You were perfect in there. Excellent play at keeping us right on schedule." 

Flattered by the genuine natured comment, Sydney felt heat rise to her cheeks. How could someone who had proven himself to be so cold and cruel, come up with the perfect lines – last night still was the perfect example – causing her to feel a sort of closeness. Some middle ground behavior would be more tolerable, at least then she wouldn't have to dwell so much. 

Suddenly, Sydney realized their hands were still intertwined a good three blocks down the way. Unintentionally she let go abruptly, lowering her hand to find her sunglasses. She noticed Sark glance in her direction, but knowing too well he would consider her move a cop out, another excuse to hide and then of course spat one of his "know it all" comments, she pretended to ignore him as she put on her shades. 


	6. Lies and Truths

Chapter 6 - 

"Reservation is for seven-thirty," Sark yelled from just outside the bathroom door. Sydney checked her watch, noting she had fifteen minutes, ample time to finish. Making one last adjustment on her hairpiece, she admired the perfect waves that gently caressed her face when she moved. Her look was complete, after applying her deep red lipgloss, and just a touch of Coco Chanel perfume. Stepping back, she moved far enough to check the stretch of her body in the full-length mirror. 

On a normal day, her external beauty was subdued, hidden behind her black suits and other agent attire. Even if she was going out with her friends, it was normally semi casual. The transformation she saw before her almost made her giddy with pride. She knew it would accentuate the natural curves of her body when she spied it in the boutique window downstairs. Red, one of her best colors, with medium sized white flowers scattered throughout. One-inch straps that sat perfectly on the edge of her shoulder, and then dove down into a deep V, the end point lying just below her cleavage. Probably her favorite feature of the dress was the knee high slit, breaking the streamline skirt that circled around her ankles. Finished, she slipped on her strappy red sandals and prepared to exit. 

When she opened the door, she found Sark sitting on the bed, taking no notice of her presence, only tying his shoes. Even his dress a strategy, he was wearing a dark taupe casual suit with a normal white button up shirt, the perfect companion to her red. His look very similar to last night except, as he stood to face her, his tie was no longer there – just a hint of skin revealed, due to the top two unfastened buttons. 

Here it came again, that feeling of being choked or losing all her air supply. On cue, the quickened heartbeat, waves of energy that ran up and down her body and the lump that gathered in her throat, all made themselves known. The only side effect missing was the redness that covered her face. It didn't come, thank God. Instead she watched it flash across Sark's face. In their most telling moment to date, they stood in silence, seeming like minutes, but in reality it was only about thirty seconds. 

Finally he broke the silence, with a low tone, and no hint of cracking in his voice. "I assume you're ready." He didn't take his eyes off her as he spoke. 

His stare piercing, she broke their contact by shifting her eyes to the door. "It's seven thirty, we better go."

"American," he whispered to his friend in Spanish, as they ride down the elevator. Sydney stared ahead at the two neatly dressed strangers, both stout Latin men who reeked of cheap cologne. It was humorous when people assumed just because a person was American, they only understood or spoke English. 

"She sort of looks Russian," the second man added in his native tongue. 

Sydney watched the floors descend, hoping they reached the main floor soon. "If she's lucky, she'll have some Latin in her later," the first man joked, causing both of them to laugh obnoxiously. All she could do was resist the urge to laugh. After all, that line was the most overused in the world of perversion. Thankfully, they finally reached the lobby. Just as the door opened the first man added, "I wonder if that guy realizes how hot his woman is." 

Sydney heard Sark chuckle, his first sign of speech since the two men joined them on their way down. He came up with a quick reply in Spanish, before the men exited. "Believe me he's fully aware of how attractive she is, that's partially why he married her."

Their faces were almost white, combining fear and embarrassment. The two men hurriedly exited the elevator, and practically tore through the lobby. With a strong appearance of gratitude, a silent thank you, Sydney smiled at Sark while placing her hand around his upper arm. 

As they're led to their reserved table, Sydney watched the handful of couples dancing to the same band present the previous night. She remembered the high comfort she felt in Sark's arms, leaning her body against his muscular chest. It had, after all, been over a year and a half since she had been in a romantic situation with any man, false or not. Everyone needed to feel the touch of another at least periodically, if not the coldness would begin to muster and eventually ice over. Life like that she never wanted to experience, she had seen the effects of it in her father. 

"Claudette," she felt the softness of a hand touch her arm. Upon looking down, she saw Consuela Espinoza sitting next to her husband. Immediately she stopped, tugging on Sark's arm as he kept walking. She continued, "Honey, this is the couple we saw at the jeweler, Claudette and…" she looked at Sark, "I'm sorry I didn't catch your first name." 

"Julian," he replied, meeting eyes with Marcus in a warm manner.

"Great," Consuela exclaimed. "You must join us tonight, I insist," given the perfect opportunity, the Binoche's sat next to each other, opposite the Espinoza's. 

Truth be told, in her normal life as Sydney, she hadn't had such a good time in quite a while. The charming couple they had the pleasure of dining with were as warm as they were vivacious. Also to her surprise, was the ability Sark had to meld into a situation, how he could mix lies and truth, making them sound near fantasy. 

The words still lingered in her mind. "I met Claudette while on a business trip in the states, at a restaurant similar to this in fact. My hum drum day was washed away, as the piano man started his tune and this lovely creature crooned on the stage." Sydney remembered watching how expressive he became telling the story, it was difficult to tell the truth from the lie. "I know it sounds like bull shit, but I felt she was singing just for me. My co-workers called me on it. Until, with immaculate timing I might add, she walked straight to me pausing long enough to run her hand along my cheek. I tell you mate, I was completely gone after that."

Now she sat, his arm wrapped around her casually, yet every now and again his thumb softly would run over her shoulder, the softest caress. Sydney finished the last of her Merlot, her sixth glass, sending her closer to a drunken state. 

Sark must have taken notice, for he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the side of her head. "You okay, love?" His concern was evident. 

Close, but not yet to a slurred speech, Sydney responded with just, "Mm hmm, just a bit tired." 

Recognizing the warning signs, Sark excused them from the table. "Looks like it's time for us to retire. We've had a wonderful time tonight." 

He stood, as did Marcus who extended his hand. "If you two don't have other plans, we'd love for you to join us on the boat tomorrow."

Assisting Sydney to stand, Sark replied to him, "Nothing pressing - a day on the water would be wonderful.

"Great, we're checking out in the morning, but I will leave directions with the front desk," Marcus took his seat again.

Although she should have been drunk, Sydney found no problem in standing or speaking, "Sounds good, thank you again for the nice time." She allowed Sark to assist her by placing his arm around her waist. 

By the time they reached the room, Sydney's intoxication had escalated. Giggling uncontrollably, she waited for Sark to retrieve the room card from his pocket. In between her giggles, Sydney spoke, "I can't believe that guy wanted to put some Latin in me." Unable to keep quiet, Sark began to laugh also, so she continued, "You were great, answering their derogatory comments in Spanish. The look on their faces." Still laughing she followed him as he walked inside. 

"They looked a bit ghostly," Sark admitted.

Sydney crashed on the couch, kicking off her heels. "Between you and me, tonight was one of the best nights I've spent out in some time." Sark showed insecurity about her candid statement. "Pretty sad considering it's all a fucked up façade."

She watched as Sark removed his jacket, placing it over the other side of the couch. Trying to dissect his feelings, much like he did to her so regularly, she watched his expression, searching for anything familiar to latch to.

"It's late," Sark started, his face washed of any hint of emotion. "We should get some sleep."

Her drunken hopes were shot down by his straight face. She momentarily paused before standing to leave the room. Just as she reached the door, Sark spoke, stopping her. "Sydney, I know starting this op was difficult for you, given our business history. I wanted to say that I appreciate the fact you've chosen to temporarily look past that, and treat me with the good nature you have the past two days."

Since she was not facing him, she allowed a smile to break at another sign of Sark's humanity. Without speaking, she entered the room and closed the door, heading to prepare for sleep. 


	7. Puzzles

Chapter 7 - 

Thinking about it was agony. His words regarding her good nature last night made her begin to question where her loyalties lied.

On one hand, her interaction with Sark before their current mission was most times terrifying. Not only for her, since Sydney had the strong backbone, also for one of her best friends. The reaction from Will when she told him Sark had joined SD-6 was heartbreaking. She fully expected him to remember his ordeal at the hands of Mr. Sark for many years to come.

Then there was the other hand, the more complex of the two.

This morning as she was getting dressed, she realized the excitement felt around the idea of a day on the water with Sark, no less. His essence was that of an enigma, so many riddles and questions none with a simple answer. But as she was sitting in the passenger seat of the rented Jaguar XK8 he's driving, she attempted to decipher what she could.

A fan of power, with a tendency to taunt in order to test one's reaction, she could only assume.

Lover of fine wines and flashy cars, his rumored choice of Merlot and in L.A, a black convertible Mercedes attested to that.

Lacking emotion in combat, she had seen him fatally shoot another point blank, without a blink or flinch.

Most women would have some sort of reaction to his resume, but her experience had desensitized her to a point. Out of the corner of her eye, she took another glance as he comfortably rode in the body conforming bucket seat.

Just as she had the color red, he wore the color blue flawlessly. The snug short sleeved t-shirt and lightweight denim jeans brightened his blonde hair, while icing his blue eyes quite nicely. His demeanor, alas, had resembled his eyes since their first encounter this morning.

Whoever trained this man, did a damn good job, his coldness and curt statements were that of a by the book agent.

Back to the decoding, with over six songs played on his burnt CD, Sark was a disciple of classic rock. Most of the songs she remembered from her youth, played at late night parties her parents would throw. Without their knowledge, she would sit just outside her bedroom door, monitoring the festivities from afar.

She smiled as the first few notes of Metallica's 'One' are played, "Big Metallica fan?" Sydney asked. Realizing she had snapped him out of deep thought, she almost wished that she had kept quiet.

"I remember hearing this song when I was younger and was amazed with how Lars played," Sark disclosed.

Sydney relaxed a bit after the small insight. "I agree. For some reason, I pictured you more of a guitarist, not a drummer."

Sark playfully smiled, given the wide-open opportunity. "You're saying that you've pictured me then, Sydney?" They look at each other smiling, except Sydney's was in slight embarrassment. Unable to respond without the conversation turning flirtatious, something she wasn't fully ready for, she faced back ahead as they neared the marina.

It was a mild day on the water. The sixty-four foot Sunseeker Manhattan they cruised on moved leisurely in the water, giving The Espinoza's the opportunity to show their new friends, The Binoche's some sights, including their waterfront home. Putting almost all the others to shame, their grand abode sat on numerous acres of land, only a few hundred feet from their own light, sandy beach.

Only one oddity stuck out, the awkwardness Sydney had to conceal while sunbathing on the bow of the yacht.

The black string bikini in which she was clad wasn't the problem, for she was fairly comfortable with her body. Uncertain what his intentions were still, she was surprised to watch Sark come to the area the ladies were positioned.

"Dear, you forgot your sunscreen," she remembered him saying as he presented the new bottle. Expecting him to just hand it to her, her nerves were activated as he clicked the lid, and proceeded to spread a substantial amount of lotion on her.

At the first touch of his hands on her bare back, Sydney felt a titillating sensation zip through her. It headed through every fraction of her, above all the sensitive tip of her breasts. Expertly, he moved the warm cream up to her shoulders then back to the curve of her lower back, until it disappeared. He even had a three-minute conversation with Consuela to which Sydney couldn't give the topic of, let alone recite one word. She found her feelings torn once it was complete, mostly she was panicked that a part of her didn't want him to stop.

But that was over five hours ago, since it was practically sundown now. The sky bursting with all shades of blues, pinks and yellows that were near dispersed, Sydney viewed the display from just outside the cabin of the vessel. Having finished a catered dinner less than fifteen minutes back, all parties were still content on the docked boat.

Wanting a closer look at the peaceful water, Sydney headed to the stern of the boat and the nearest cushioned seat. Immersed in thoughts of nothing in particular, she became startled by a voice that came from her backside.

"It's magnificent, isn't it," Sark saw the beauty through her eyes. She couldn't help but sigh, having the opportunity to enjoy the moment simultaneously.

Just behind him, The Espinoza's took the seat on the other side of the boat. "This time of night has got to be my favorite," Consuela cooed, as Marcus slid his arm around her.

Following their lead, Sark took a seat on the same cushion, behind Sydney. In a possessive manner, he wrapped his arm around her, just below her neck and pulled her to recline to rest on his chest.

In a moment of weakness, Sydney found her emotions running rabid and was almost on the verge of tears. Sark's arms made her feel so secure, almost loved, like nothing could ever harm her again as long as he was around. What scared her enough to fight back those tears, was the fact this man could be the person to literally destroy her. Her dire revelation caused her to shiver slightly.

"Are you cold?" Sark asked, feeling the slight shake.

Afraid to speak, Sydney shook her head no. Even with her negative answer, Sark still ran both of his hands up her arms, creating warmth.

After a few moments of the couples sitting in silence, Marcus broke the air. "Since you two are due to leave in two days, we were hoping you would come to our Christmas party tomorrow night. It's going to be relatively intimate, just a few close friends."

A bittersweet gesture, since the invite to their personal quarters was the next to last step of their orders, Sydney snapped herself back to reality. "We'd love to come." Any signs of sadness were absent from her voice.

"Perfect," Consuela chimed in. "Dinner is at seven and is black tie. We can send a car for you if you'd like."

Knowing that might not be the best idea, Sark responded to the offer. "Actually I'll probably take the rental back tomorrow night afterwards so we don't have to deal with it while departing."

"Sure," Marcus answered.

Left to sit in silence again, Sydney was overwhelmed with the situation. Perfectly executed, they received access to The Espinoza's residence, and one of Espinoz's main computers exactly as planned. If only everything else had gone accordingly.

Sydney was aware those were her words that told Sloane to remind Sark this relationship was a complete front, only in place to complete the op. She gave the pushback on starting this mission, and now she was the one that didn't want it to end. Internally forlorn, Sydney watched the moonlight as it bounced off the rippled water, a weak attempt to distract her.


	8. When You're Not Looking

Chapter 8 - 

As expected, that night was practically sleepless for her. Hours spent switching from right to left, blanket to none. The velvet cover and supple mattress that had been so comforting in her first sleep, now felt rigid. Near giving up, Sydney swung her legs to the floor then proceeded to sit on the windowsill that just happened to be long enough to use as a bench. For comfort, she brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. 

Gazing over the darkness of the city, sprinkled with nightlife, Sydney couldn't help but wonder where to go from here. Things couldn't ever be the same between her and Sark, no matter how you put it. In her eyes, it was close to the awkwardness a woman might feel the morning after a one-night stand. She knew her grandest weakness were her feelings, and detested the fact they always chose the most inopportune time to surface. 

"Can't sleep?" She heard Sark ask, from just inside the bedroom. 

Obviously startled, Sydney gasped and jumped slightly. "You scared the shit out of me," she exclaimed. With the open curtain, she saw it all. The few strands of his hair disheveled by rest, the definition of his bare arms and chest, flexed as he scratched the back of his head. His nakedness covered by only a loose pair of shorts. Chemistry was a fucked up thing sometimes. 

"Sorry, I figured you would be sleeping by now," he answered, looking unsure if he wanted to continue a conversation with her. 

Fully aware she was only wearing her white tank and brief set, Sydney felt exposed again, "Just going over some last minute details."

"At two thirty in the morning," he lightly mocked her.

Normally his banter would provoke her to respond, but not tonight. Now that she knew where her nervousness was derived, she was unable to. "We all have our routines."

Sark eyed her, sensing something's a bit off, but didn't press it. "That's true," he agreed, while walking into the bathroom. When the door shut, she made her way back to the bed, hoping she could at least get a few hours rest. 

When dressing up, she was a girl's girl. The feel of satin, velvet or silk as it rubbed against the body could be heavenly. Tonight's choice, black A-line, chiffon halter dress with tiny specks of sparkles and a drooping neckline, clung to her body just right. Her hair was swooped up in a loose twist with a few tendrils surrounding her face, and it finished the elegant look. 

On time, as she checked her watch reading five past six, Sydney exited the bathroom, ready for the last of this. All day they had barely spoke, having done their own thing since there was no longer a need to keep up the appearance of being married. It was better that way, for her at least. 

Sydney entered the front room, finding Sark tying his black tie with aid of a mirror. As she walked in, she noticed his attention had switched to her through the mirror. Avoiding his stare, she took her clutch from the table and loaded it with necessities. Anxiety starting to build inside her, she let out a relatively loud sigh.

"Everything okay?" Sark asked, as he faced her.

Unaware she had been so noisy in letting it out, she backtracked, "Just a bit nervous about tonight, that's all."

"These people are clueless about what we're going to do," Sark scoffed at their intelligence. "It'll be a breeze." 

Sydney placed a reassuring smile on her face, but was thinking about her attachment to the couple. She genuinely liked The Espinoza's. They had accepted a strange couple into their circle of friends without a second thought. With his last statement, another display of what she felt to be normal "Sark" behavior, Sydney grabbed her wrap and headed toward the door.  

"Claudette, Julian," Consuela exclaimed, as the two walked through the foyer. "I'm so glad to see you both." The Binoche's approached the striking woman who was wearing a soft pink satin, strapless gown that trailed slightly behind, as she walked over from inside the dining area. Sydney exchanged kisses on the cheek when Consuela reached them.

"Consuela, your home is just lovely. It reminds me of some of the properties Julian had on hand in France," Sydney added. 

Playing the perfect hostess, Consuela led them to the bar set up, next to the buffet style spread full of fine cuisine. "The bar is fully stocked, all at your disposal," Consuela invited. Upon another couple entering the room she smiled, "Excuse me, I'll be back around in a few."

Sark handed her a glass of Merlot, he took a dark colored liquor on ice. Sipping, to ensure a sober mind, she started on the glass. "After dinner should be the best time, you think?" Sydney inquired.

"Of course, why pass up the opportunity for food and spirits," Sark spoke close to a whisper. The two made their way around the dining area, admiring the fine art displayed on the walls. 

The time they had at dinner compared to no other she could remember. Thirteen couples from various parts of the world all sharing bits of their life experiences. Laughter and playful, teasing comments lightened the atmosphere allowing her to find some serenity in what they had to do.

After dinner just as planned, Sark spilled a small amount of wine on his white shirt, giving him the opportunity to excuse himself. Instead of a clean up, he was to find the main computer, attach the device allowing SD-6 access to K-Directorate information, subsequently finishing the op. That was twenty minutes ago, Sydney wasn't worried though, he had always proven to be quite self sufficient in his work. 

Now she just waited, engaged in conversation with Consuela. "So when does your plane leave tomorrow?" Consuela inquired.

"Twelve fifteen, another thirty hour trip back to the states," Sydney complained. 

Consuela finished her wine, "That ride is a bitch, I've made it many a time." Marcus walked up to his wife a mischievous look in his eye. He whispered something in her ear, causing a wide smile to appear on Consuela's face. When he had finished, he kissed her cheek and returned to mingling.

"Your husband is adorable, obvious with his affection for you," Sydney complimented.

Flattered by the comment, Consuela responded, "I guess if anyone knows what that's like it would be you. Spending these past few days with you and Julian re-ignited a little spark in my marriage. His romantic gestures, public displays, and the way he watches you when you're not paying attention. I haven't seen many men as devoted to loving his wife as him."

Such kind words about something rooted in a lie, Sydney hid her disappointment well. "Reciprocation of such feelings is everything I'd dreamt of since I was young, and finding it is the greatest gift one could ever receive." 

"I agree. Excuse me again," Consuela told Sydney. "Looks as if a few of my friends are leaving."

When Consuela was gone, Sydney looked around the room, finally catching eyes with Sark as he walked around the corner from the back of the house. Strolling, with his hands inserted in his pant pockets, he stepped just inside the dining area. The corner of his mouth turned up as he finished the walk to her. He shifted his eyes to the front door, informing her that things were finished.


	9. Cutting Old Ties While Starting New

Chapter 9 - 

Packing that night was a bit distressing, a step closer to the reality she didn't really miss. Her issues with her Mother, Father and work all found temporary relief while in Buenos Aires. Now she could feel them slowly making their way back. What she was hanging onto until then was the last dance between her and Sark at the Espinoza's. 

Joining the other couples that moved around the open space, Sark reached for Sydney's hand and she willingly allowed him to take her onto the floor. It was a reminder of their first night here, the same pace, same position with her head resting on his shoulder. Only difference was that he seemed to hold her tighter this time, while gently stroking her exposed back with his hand. 

She could still feel his hands on her, warming the skin under her bathrobe. Right now it seemed as if that sensation would never disperse. Quietly she heard the door of their suite open, a sign that Sark was back two hours after they returned to the hotel, she presumed finished with cutting all surveillance in the building. 

Sensing his presence in the room, she questioned, "Everything ended well?"

Sark walked near her, standing at the end of the bed. "We're completely disconnected, ready to leave."

"Good," Sydney stated. "This is the longest I've stayed in one country. It truly was like a much needed vacation."

Sark digested her comment and added his signature crassness, "Next time you get a vacation I do hope you're in better company than a few fake friends."

Sydney stopped packing, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked.

Her level of frustration rising she continued, "Treat people the way you do. The Espinoza's are great people that just happen to have access to something SD-6 wants. There's no need to devalue them."

"How is it my fault you've formed a bond with them? I'm here to do a job Sydney not make friends," Sark snapped as he turned to leave.

Sydney followed him to the bedroom door. "That's rich," she started. "Remember when you told me you appreciated the kindness I've shown you here, regardless of our history? Actions such as these make it difficult to look past anything but what you're displaying right now in your behavior."

"So what do you expect me to do Sydney," Sark stopped walking and turned around to face her.

Sydney let out a short laugh, "I guess I don't expect you to do anything Sark. If being devoid of feeling is how you want to live, be my guest."

The look in his eye was indefinable, standing less that two feet away from her, his eyes had a glazed over look, showing a hint of what she believed was anger. Her heart raced as he took a step closer, shortening their distance to less than a foot.

"You think I'm void of feeling," Sark spoke with a hint of sultriness in his voice. There was no answer she could have given to that question. The look in his eye didn't warrant one. But before she could respond, he grabbed her upper arms and forcibly pushed her back against the bedroom door, causing her head to slam against it. At the same time he vigorously crushed her lips with his own, his breath uneven, before the connection. 

She could taste the freshness of strong liquor on his breath, on his tongue as it was inserted, but her mind was too flooded to dwell on it. Deeper he went as their exchange intensified, their lips wet, as they stay locked, and the movement of their mouths completely synchronized. When his hands found her face, cupping it a bit roughly to draw her further into him, Sydney moaned. The closest action to breathing she could make. 

Sark moved a hand from her face, dropping it to her shoulder, gently sliding down her robe. His hand grabbed at the area of her collarbone, massaging it with slight force. Sydney anticipated the bolt that was about to run through her, as his hand slid down to the strap of her tank, also moving it away. 

With one of her breasts exposed, Sark finally stopped the kiss, keeping within inches of her lips. He stared into her eyes, looking forward to her reaction, as he cupped the breast, lightly sliding his thumb over her stiff nipple. Just as he expected, her eyes automatically closed from the sensation it brought, also expected came a soft moan, barely escaping from her mouth. 

"I can't," Sydney finally stammered at a whisper, knowing she truly wasn't ready for this yet.

Sark kissed Sydney one last time, taking her slightly swollen lower lip in his mouth. His eyes were still fiery from the exchange. "I know." He took his hands from her and immediately moved away, walking to the front door of the suite. Before exiting he glanced at Sydney, who expected him to speak before leaving, but he didn't.

Allowing a tear to fall down her cheek, Sydney re-covered her body with her robe and walked back into the bedroom. Any feeling of control she had toward Sark was now completely annihilated. Sark knew he was one of her weaknesses, and now she could only fear what he'd do with that intel. 

She didn't hear him come back in that night, falling asleep in less than an hour saw to that. When she curled up in the plush bed, Sydney found herself at odds. Part of her wanted a good cry, good enough to put her right to sleep. The other half had been drugged with adrenaline, her excitement levels shooting through the roof. Fortunately she was more exhausted than anything, due to the lack of sleep she received the night before. 

Morning came too soon, more so than normal. Sydney's mental alarm didn't even go off, her cell phone saw to her waking, 

"Hello?"

"Sydney," Sloane's voice came through on the line. "I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. We've had the chance to grab some great information so far." 

Sydney sat up in bed, putting her hair back. "Everything went as planned," she informed him.

"That's what Mr. Sark told us earlier today," slightly confused by his comment, she let him continue, "I wanted to let you know Mr. Sark had some other business to take care of so we authorized his leaving Buenos Aires early in the morning."

Hiding her disappointment, Sydney curtly ended the call. "Thank you for letting me know. I guess I'll see you after the holiday then." 

"Sounds good Sydney," Sloane added. "Have a good holiday."

Before hanging up she let out, "You too." She threw her phone on the bed, more confused now than last she had been last night.


	10. Christmas War

Chapter 10 -

"Sydney, it's gorgeous," Francie exclaimed at first glace of the turquoise stone necklace Sydney brought back from South America. She knew it would be Francie's style when she saw it in the shop window while she browsed Barrio Norte. Sydney watched as Francie wrapped the silver chain around her neck. "Completely classic, where did you find it?" 

With her normal swiftness, she lied, "I guess it's from South America, at least that's what was listed on the Website I went to. I'm glad you like it."

Francie had been surprised when Sydney made it home two days before Christmas. On occasion, she was completely aware, work would keep her much longer than planned, but this time the op was executed well. She of course had to alter the truth about the healthy glow on her tan face, changing it from sunbathing to semi severe wind burn caused by the frigid weather in Colorado. It was an easy sell given the time of year. What was unexpected, were the questions Francie had about Sydney's periodic moments of silence. 

Although she had over a day of flight to think about her and Sark's interaction, she still found herself frequently in a daze during the past few days. Thoughts of happiness or sadness at times turning to confusion plagued her, knowing she wouldn't have any interaction with Sark until she returned to work after the holiday. 

He didn't have anything pressing to do, deep down she knew that, but she also didn't need him to explain why he left. Equally as deep she knew that too. 

To cease Francie's questioning, Sydney had blamed her distant spells on a minor case of jet lag, but with her flight supposedly a short one, it wasn't very convincing. 

Now she sat in her living room with her best friends/roommates, opening each other's gifts and preparing for a post present paper war. It happened every year now, except this year they were all living together. Sydney ran her hand over the white cashmere scarf she received from Will, she had always loved the softness of cashmere against her skin, at the same time watching him open the cable knit sweater she bought for him

Holding it up for all to see Will was pleased with her choice. "I love it Sydney, thank you." 

"Straight from the coldness of Denver to the sweat shop that is Southern Cal," Sydney joked about the unusually warm weather they had experienced this winter. Sydney crumpled up a piece of wrapping paper, "So, I guess that's it. Time to prepare for Christmas combat," she warned her friends. 

"Actually, you still have one gift left," Francie stated, as she walked over to the tree, grabbing a medium sized Fed Ex box. "It was delivered the day before you came home." Francie handed it to her.

Inspecting the box, her heart automatically fluttered with recognition of the sender's name, Julian Binoche. After many hours of convincing herself she needed to stop pining over what happened in Buenos Aires, she was taken right back to square one. Carefully she opened the box, taking out the tissue paper. Deep inside, she found a medium sized red velvet box. 

"Who's it from Syd?" Will asked as he spied the obvious present of fine jewelry.

She tried to conceal her enthusiasm while coming up with a cover. "Looks like it's from a business associate we helped with a huge fraudulent issue he'd been dealing with. I was told to expect something in the mail." Showing a small amount of hesitance, secretly savoring the anticipation, she slowly opened the small box and was overwhelmed to find the second greatest gift she could hope to receive. 

Why would she expect anything less from him?

The lights in her house weren't strategically placed, yet she could still see the same colors of the spectrum. The three stones, melded side by side, dangled more beautifully than she had remembered. She wanted so bad to let the tears of happiness from behind her eyes fall, but couldn't overreact to what was supposed to be a meaningless gift from an associate. All the same, she adored the necklace she first laid eyes on in Buenos Aires.

Spying it from behind Francie boasted, "Good God Syd, that necklace is absolutely exquisite. You must have done a hell of a job for the guy." Francie's statement immediately brought up one question.

Could she accept the eleven hundred dollar necklace?

While she slid the white gold chain through her fingers, she explored her concern. Its splendor was of no issue, but the cost and sender were. Chances were no one else knew about the purchase, she reasoned, more than likely Sark covered up his tracks by paying cash. She could keep it after all it was a gift, albeit close to an inappropriate one. 

No longer caring about the intentions or consequences, Sydney placed the necklace back in its box, closing the lid. "The job was actually quite entertaining. When you're faced with a difficult situation that needs the most delicate of handling, you tend to discover many things about yourself and others you normally wouldn't realize at first glance." 

With that true statement, she threw the paper ball in her hand straight at Will, pegging him right between the eyes – initiating a war that went on for a good thirty minutes. 

End first part of series. Second part is named No One Knows


End file.
